


Empty Pining

by dimircharmer



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Fuckbuddies, Loneliness, Masturbation, NSFW, Size Difference, character study plus smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:19:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimircharmer/pseuds/dimircharmer
Summary: Pike misses Vox Machina, when they leave her behind. Some members of the group more than others.-Smut, plus a character study that snuck in here somehow.





	

Look it didn’t- it didn’t happen often, alright? But it’s not like Pike was  _ dead _ or anything. She had needs the same as anyone else, and satisfying that while you lived in a room off a temple was- well. So you could see her problem. 

 

It wasn’t like she could rent a room in town just to get herself off, either. Well, she could. But not surreptitiously. 

 

So she found herself, in one of Whitestone Castle’s guest bedrooms, while the rest of Vox Machina was out on an adventure after a dinner where Cass had invited her to stay the night, with her door shut, thrusting desperately into her own hand, three fingers deep and desperate for more, for contact, for pressure for-

 

The other issue,besides location, of course. was that her own fingers left something to be desired and (frankly, a  _ lot _ ) to the imagination, these days. 

 

She missed battle, terrible as it was for a cleric to say. She missed the thrill of it, the rush, and the after-battle adrenaline surging through her body that made everything feel electric and shaky and twice as alive as you could get from anything else. 

 

She missed after battle rituals which started well before Vox Machina -she missed Grog’s massive hands around her waist touching thumb-to-thumb and finger-to-finger as he held her against his face his, tongue buried deep inside her. He would hold her seated on his face with thick warm hands, and even though the memory made her thrust harder, nothing compared to the real thing. More recently, the bristle of his beard against her thighs added to the whole experience, tickling enough to make her bite her lip and grind against his mouth. She missed bracing against his wrists and coming on his tongue, she missed the slip of a single one of his fingers in her cunt filling her completely, missed the feel of his other hand braced against her back, missed his cock twitching against her stomach, against her breasts and cheek-

 

They never tired to do it the traditional way,  _ obviously _ . But Pike still has fond memories of her hands full of Grog’s cock, of licking up and down his shaft messily, of both of them full of life and lust and nearly laughing with it; this after battle energy. Sharing that thrill at being alive and celebrating by exalting in one another is an experience unmatched by anything else Pike can put a name to.

 

Even when he comes back, these days, it’s not the same. Nothing can compare to the after battle sweat and musk and ache in the muscles that they only start to feel once they’re finished and lying in bed next to one another panting, breathlessly comparing highlights from both the fight and the sex alike. Sex without the bruises and the weariness and the electric hum of adrenaline just isn’t the same, and she misses fighting with him just as much as she misses what comes after. 

 

He’s the only one that doesn’t treat her like she’s made of porcelain, that will toss her around and bite her neck, and stuff her full of fingers, and fuck her till she’s full and-

 

She comes on her own fingers with an orgasm that doesn’t do much more than leave her acutely aware of what she’s missing, and she collapses back against the too-big Whitestone bed, and hopes the next time her friends come back she can go with them.


End file.
